


Memories of midnight

by frostedquill



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Pre Breakup, Shameless Smut, Smut, some phone sex, torts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-16
Updated: 2015-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-21 00:57:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4808792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostedquill/pseuds/frostedquill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor's study session is interrupted by Oliver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memories of midnight

**Author's Note:**

> I had forgotten about this fic entirely. I wrote it before Connor and Oliver broke up and never got around to editing or posting it. 
> 
> To celebrate season 2....

“Hello…” Connor groaned into the phone.

 _“Hey.”_ Oliver replied softly.

“What’s up? Oliver its 12:30 AM on a Sunday.” Connor groaned. Funny how late Midnight was when you're studying.  “Are you alright…?”

“I want you.”

“Wh…”

 _“I want you Connor Walsh.”_ Oliver murmured, amusement coloring his tone.

“Is that so?” Connor asked, suddenly awake.

Oliver hummed in agreement.

“Where are you?”

“I went dancing with some friends. This song came on while I was on the dancefloor and all I could think about was grinding up on you and you grinding up on me. I wanted to press kisses on the nape of your neck and slip my fingers beneath your shirt before turning you around so we could grind our hips together.”

Connor sucked in his breath. Never had he thought to hear words like that from Oliver.

“Oliver are you high? Or drunk?” Connor asked torn between arousal and worry.

“No.” Oliver replies with a short laugh. “I’m just fucking hot for you Connor.” There was a hint of longing in Oliver’s voice that made Connor clench the phone. Before he could reply with a flirtatious remark of his own, Oliver continued. “If you were with me, I’d be kissing that sexy mouth of yours.”

“Yeah…?” Though aroused, Connor was slightly amused.

“Where are you?”

“My apartment, studying for torts.”

“And you fell asleep.” Oliver continued. “I’ll keep you awake. What are you wearing Connor?”

“A tank-top and boxers.” Connor replied after a brief pause.

“Do you know how I’m contemplating having you?”

“Tell me.”

“ _I’d get on my knees.”_ Oliver began casually. “ _I’d start with your ankle; run my fingers up your calf, lightly; I’d trace the same path up the other calf with my mouth. I’d stop, at the knee, run my hands up your thighs then down and resume kissing my way up. I’d pull your boxers down; biting, nipping, licking at your hip before moving up to your navel, Connor.”_ Oliver’s voice is soft, slow and filled with desire. _“I’d start rising; kissing my way up your abs, my hands moving up your waist.”_ Oliver paused.

"Oliver?"

 _“Your shirt comes off.”_ Connor’s breath’s hitches and almost unconsciously he removes his tank top. _“My tongue is toying with your nipples, alternating between them, and I have a hand around your neck.”_ Connor’s licks his finger and of its own accord his hand drops to his chest. _“I finally get to kiss you Connor. Your mouth is warm and hot and we can’t stop. I pull your head back so I can suck at your neck, and I’m running my hands down your back. I grab your ass and  pull you forward so our hips meet. You can feel how hard I am for you through the fabric of my pants.”_

“You still have clothes on?” Connor is affronted.

 _“Of course.”_ Oliver replies. _“Part your legs for me Connor.”_ Oliver unwittingly orders and Connor does, slipping his boxers off. _“…So I can slip a thigh between yours. We’re grinding against eachother again, this time your moaning is the only music.”_

“Oliver…”

 _“Are you touching yourself?”_ Oliver asked with mild curiosity and disapproval.

“Yes. My cock is so ready for you Oliver, please.”

 _“Stop touching yourself.”_ Oliver orders sternly. It shouldn't be so hot.

“Oli…”

_““Stop touching yourself, Connor. Or I’ll hang up.”_

“Oliver. You can’t leave me like this!”

 _“Like what?_ ” It’s Oliver’s turn to sound amused.

“Naked and hard.”

_“Are you sitting?”_

“Yes. I’m reclining on my couch, completely naked, my thighs wide open waiting for you.”

 _“In my mind you’re standing and I’m moving behind you and I’m pushing you forward so you’re bracing yourself against the couch. I’m slowly kissing down your spine Connor._ ”

There’s a pause.

“What next?”

_“To be continued…”_

“What?! Don’t tell me you have writer’s block.” Connor tells him somewhere between horror and irritation.

“ _I don’t. But words aren’t enough to convey all that I’m doing to you. How about I show you?”_

“I’m coming over.”

_“I’m not in my apartment.”_

“Are you narrating this in public?” Connor is breathless and turned on.

 _“Maybe…”_ Oliver’s voice is filled with mischief and it excites Connor more.

“Go to your apartment.” Connor orders.

 _“No. Text me your address.”_ Oliver refutes. _“I want you to wait for me, with your thoughts of all the thing I could do to you.”_ Oliver hangs up.

Connor is too aroused to care that this is the first time he’s brought someone to his apartment. In their minds, the moment is taking place in Connor’s apartment. Connor types the text as quickly as his fingers can move.

He waits.

 **[don’t touch your cock.]** Oliver replies.

Then…

**[Get dressed. I want to take your clothes off].**

 

Half-an hour later, Connor found himself dressed in his tank-top and boxer shorts, waiting for Oliver to arrive. As the minutes ticked by he began to doubt whether Oliver would show. Perhaps Oliver was actually fucked up, or worse playing a joke on Connor. His negative musings were soon interrupted by the beep of his phone.

“Hello.” His voice sounded rough to his ears and a little apprehension and a bit of hope had leaked into his voice.

_“I’m outside your apartment.”_

Connor does not rush to open the door like he wants to. Instead he forces himself to take a deep breath and slowly walk towards the door. Oliver turns around and Connor swears to himself to go clubbing with Oliver. He’s wearing a simple black shirt beneath a reddish leather jacket, a pair of dark jeans and loafers. Oliver’s normally slicked back hair is stylishly messy and his glasses have been replaced by contact lenses. A slow smile spread across Oliver’s face and Connor finds himself mimicking him.

Without a word Oliver crosses the few feet separating them, and gently cups Connor’s face before kissing him softly. Connor forgets he had any recriminations to begin with. Oliver pulls away as Connor becomes more forceful, and smiles as confusion blossoms on Connor’s face. Oliver kisses him again slowly but with just as much passion and it seems like an eternity. Oliver smiles as he pulls away, wanting to appreciate Connor’s slightly dazed expression. Maintaining eye contact for as long as possible, Oliver sinks to his knees. His long fingers brush against Connor’s ankle and sensually move up his left calve while his mouth trails kisses up the right. Then Oliver runs his hands up and down Connor’s thighs. With one hand braced on Connor’s right thigh Oliver slowly kisses a trail up Connor’s left inner thigh. Oliver smiles to himself as he reaches the hem of Connor’s boxers. He nips at the fabric, before slowly pulling the garment off Connor. His movements are torturously slow and small impatient sounds are escaping Connor.

Connor’s cock is hard, red and the tip is leaking. For a moment Oliver contemplates taking him in his mouth, but the moment is fleeting and he finishes the trails he began. His long fingers and hot mouth are caressing the delicate junction of Connor’s thighs and hips and Connor has to shift slightly. As promised Oliver dips his tongue in Connor’s navel before kissing up his abs pulling off the tank top as he rises. He can finally stand and Connor is naked. His mouth latches on a nipple while a hand toys with the other. Connor trembles slightly and Oliver places his free hand on Connor’s hip to steady him. He cups Connor’s neck and looks at him for a moment. The younger man’s eyes are wide with lust, his cheeks pink, his hair a mess and his lips slightly parted, begging to be kissed. Oliver obliges. The kisses are long, slow almost lazy. They have time. Oliver begins sucking at Connor’s neck and a keening sound escapes the younger man. He lets his hands lightly move down Connor’s back and over his buttocks, which he grasp firmly. He pulls Connor forward and is met with no resistance. When Oliver slips a thigh between Connor’s legs, Connor immediately grasps Oliver’s jacket and starts moving against him. The noises Connor makes are not human and his movements are erratic and desperate. Oliver feels a rush of pleasure at the thought that he can reduce Connor Walsh into this quivering mess. Oliver can tell that Connor is close, he’s learned to read him, and he removes himself from Connor’s embrace to tug slightly at the other man’s balls to stop him from ejaculating. Connor is grasping at Oliver’s clothes and alternates between glaring at Oliver and pleading for him to let him come.

After a few moments Oliver finally let’s go, presses a kiss to an irritated Connor’s lips. He has to help him to the couch, because Connor’s legs are still wobbly. They’re standing in front of the piece of furniture and Oliver maneuvers Connor so that his left foot is on the floor his right knee on the couch, and his hands are holding the armrest and the back of the sofa. Oliver is standing perpendicularly to Connor’s body so he can appreciate the view. Connor’s hair is disheveled and dripping with sweat, his lower lip between his teeth and his muscles taught with anticipation. The lighting was dim and the shadows are dancing seductively on Connor’s muscular frame.

“Do you plan on standing there for the rest of the evening?”

“Can I take a picture of you?” Oliver asks gingerly. “Please?”

Connor was surprised, it wasn't the first time someone had asked him such a question. The obvious answer was no, but there was a certain intimacy in the way Oliver voiced the question, so Connor found himself telling him yes.

Oliver moves behind Connor to trail kisses down his spine. He could here the familiar sound of a dental dam and oh… Connor found himself sighing and moaning Oliver’s name over like a prayer. Connor was falling apart beneath Oliver’s touch and he didn’t care. The only thing he was aware of was Oliver’s presence. True to form the man’s hands stroke Connor’s thighs, back, belly and sometimes, teasingly, his cock while his tongue teases Connor’s ass. Connor doesn’t last long. His mind becomes a haze as his body shakes violently under the force of his orgasm. It takes a moment for him to come to and when he does he finds himself sitting on the couch with Oliver wiping him down with tissues.

“Connor? Where do you keep your towels?”

Connor shook his head negatively and motioned for Oliver to so sit down.

“Connor the couch is a mess. It will stain if I don’t...”

Connor just gives him a wry smile. Oliver sighs before sitting on the couch and pulling Connor into his lap. He begins wiping Connor off with his handkerchief but the younger man chooses to curl into Oliver before kissing him softly. If Oliver is surprised by the tender show of affection he says nothing.

“You didn’t cum.” Connor said surprised. Oliver noticed that his eyes were slightly wide and his muscles stiff. “Let me help you out.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I enjoyed myself.” Oliver replied. “Besides,” he began wickedly. “Who said that we were done.”

A smirk slowly made its way on Connor’s mouth. “What else do you have in store for me?”

“Let me show you.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly think this is the filthiest thing I've ever written. 
> 
> Someone douse me in holy water.


End file.
